The Joy of HEX
by Yaliena
Summary: The crew of the Red Dwarf test the new "Holly Hop Drive." Ponder Stibbons discovers HEX has computer senility. Can they help each other without destroying the Disc in the process?
1. Chapter 1

**The Joy of Hex**

_Chapter One_

It started off as just another day. A day filled with gray walls, gray bulkheads, gray ceilings, gray floors, the gray metal table in the middle of the living quarters. The gray, discarded, stiff-as-a-board underpants thrown carelessly on the floor. Dave Lister, the last human being alive, lay back on his bed with a long sigh. Much as he hated to admit it, he was bored. Between the mulitude of unfortunate events that seemed to follow the crew of Red Dwarf, the days dragged to at least a week in comparison. Before he was stranded three million years from Earth, and before drifting slowly back towards home for years longer than his Space Corps contract would have ever felt in Z-Shift under Arnold J Rimmer, he would have been perfectly happy with drinking the day away with a good helping of his trusty chicken vindaloo. But his adventures made him edgy. Just waiting for the next alien spaceship to take a dislike to them, the next despair squid on a seemingly safe derelict, Holly's latest quest to keep him "sane", or the latest attempt by his Gelf bride to take him and procreate in a disturbingly hairy fashion. He was his own father for Earth's sake. Did he really need anything else to complicate his life? He was probably long past sane already. Although Holly had admitted that he wasn't very good at that part of his job.

Thinking of his last close escape from near-certain death, he sighed once more, turning onto his side, hoping for a few hours of oblivion, Just to make sure, he faced the dull, military gray wall. Maybe if he slept, he could ignore the next inevitable encounter, he had certainly tried to get drunk enough to sleep that deeply. And he had eaten a rather large curry, sleep naturally came next. It might even make him feel a bit better.

* * *

In a galaxy far, far, away, to quote an ancient scroll, another slightly chubby male, around the same age was also lying in the same position after a traditionally large Senior Staff Banquet. Far from being a special occasion, Wizards were "firmly behind big dinners" (to quote the Archchancellor himself), and even a dragon searching for gold and holding them under siege for a virgin could distract them from this strongly entrenched and most sacred of rituals. Ponder Stibbons, head researcher of the High Energy Magic building of Unseen University, Ankh-Morpork, The Discworld, AM1, was, like his name, pondering. His computer, HEX, was going slightly mad. Some might say senile. Instead of an IQ that would allow him to defeat 20 Russian Chess Grandmasters simultaneously, he was a kumquat. Or a zucchini. A couple of dozen Fool's Guild Edificeering instuctors. Oh, and he was a little confused. He was now wanting to be addressed as HEXIE, and claimed he was a gorgeous brunette from somewhere called the "Midwest". What could have gone wrong? It was well known that working in the HEM building could cause certain...strange behaviour, but how would it affect a computer? They didn't get viruses, after all. How stupid was that idea? Ludicrous...

As he wondered, he fell into an uneasy sleep, his stomach's contented growls a counterpoint to his increasingly vulgar snoring.

* * *

Arnold Judas Rimmer, Hologram, Coward, and general weasel was up early. With his matching, strictly uniform singlet and shorts hanging loosely around a body that was nowhere near toned enough to handle it, he was off for his morning jog. He considered himself very fit, and regularly made it around the middle deck of the ship in ten minutes. An hour and a half later, he reached the door to Lister's quarters. Rimmer had long since grown sick of sharing a room with the man he considered unworthy of being the sole survivor of his species, conveniently forgetting that he was responsible for the deaths of almost the entire crew, including himself. Lister escaped through being in confinement for a _crime, _and he was dead. Even being imprisoned on Justice World, and put on trial for everyone's deaths didn't keep it in his memory for long at a time. Despite not staying in the same bunk room, he still loved to be there, reminding the goofy-grinned slob of his meaningless existance, and downright messy behaviour.

Opening the door by pushing it in a true military fashion, he jogged in and marked time briskly. "Come on Listy! Rise and shine! Beautiful morning to be alive!" Lister was already awake, just trying to ignore the voice invading his thoughts. "Up up up!" cried Rimmer. "I've already run around the deck in a new record time! Ten minutes exactly, Listy!"

Lister had had enough already. "Rimmer, you spent at least ten minutes resting outside this door, so you could come in here without looking too shagged out. I could hear you breathing. Not to mention the 20 minutes trying to trick the vending machine with your coin-on-a-string again." "How dare you!" Rimmer replied indignantly, his nose twitching. "I am a military man of high moral character, a leader of men, a -" "snivelling, weaselly cowardly little weasel?" Lister finished for him. "You do it every morning. I can set my watch by you." "You could if you were awake", retorted Rimmer childishly. "Anyway, Holly wants us for something". "Well, why couldn't he wake me then, instead of sending your skinny, lily-livered body here to annoy me?" moaned Lister, moving his pillow over his head to block out his ex-bunkmate's nasally voice.

"Alright dudes?" came over the speakers, interrupting them, and the head of a balding, slightly miserable man in his late 40's appeared on the sleeping quarters' vid-screen. He sounded excited, but it was hard to tell when their computer's voice was mostly deadpan, whatever was going on. "What's up, Hol?" said Lister, pretending to be mildly interested. Normally when Holly had that slight excitement in his voice, he's just done, or was about to do something that would lead to them being in trouble. Lister was also able to conveniently forget, his lust for a curry a year or so ago had led to them encouraging JFK to assassinate himself, to "drive the conspiracy nuts wild". Changed history, and they still didn't get him a vindaloo.

"Well, even after someone ruthlessly destroyed the first one, and I had to start from scratch, I tweaked a little, got a new box, and I have created the Holly Hop II! We can test it today!"

"Is it more than just a box with knobs saying 'STOP' and 'GO' this time?" said Rimmer scathingly, while Lister had his head in his hands and was hitting it softly against the table. "Not _again_" he moaned quietly. "No, I got it right this time," Holly assured him dryly. "You'll be back to Earth for a visit before you know it."

"So, no surprises?"

"No surprises."

Lister and Rimmer looked at each other. For one moment, the two were agreed. Neither was entirely convinced.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Joy of HEX**

_Chapter Two_

Next morning, about eleven o'clock, Ponder was back in the HEM after a suitably large breakfast, easier to solve problems. Sherlock Holmes needed tobacco, others might use ice cream, he used food. Easily avaliable, and good for the brain. "Eta Beta Pi", and all that. He followed this with a nap. All the energy you needed for the next meal, plus a little work in the meantime. He had an early meeting, at precisely one p.m, and he wanted to get some actual work done before the Dean arrived to stick his nose in. The man was inevitably going to sit around, asking awkward questions for the sole reason that he knew nothing whatsoever about any actual magic, and hid it by pretending to show an interest in anything new on the Disc, so he could let the last batch of knowledge slip happily out of his dense, fat head. The Archchancellor had once asked if it would be possible to fit another HEX inside the Dean's head, and his morbidly obese, useless body probably wouldn't notice the extra weight, Ponder mused. He felt rather mean, but the Dean wasn't usually a nice man, so he let it slide, dragging his mind back to his problems.

All the glass tubes within HEX were empty, it wasn't thinking about anything right then. Ponder checked inside, the mouse was snuggled happily in it's little nest, well fed, plenty of ants were ready and awaiting instructions. The bees, buzzing away in the storage room next door. There really didn't seem to be any reason for HEX's stupidity and sudden strange behaviour, unless the Dean had been in here messing around...

"And think of the devil!" his mind taunted him as he heard a knock at the door. A mere warning rather than a request to enter, it was soon followed by the overly large, waddling frame that was a man whose only job was to eat food and look like he was someone important. Every time they were in the same room, Ponder felt even more that he was the only wizard who actually _knew_ anything. Spending his time with HEX had been actual, proper work, with the intelligence it had developed being welcome. Unfortunately, it seemed that was all about to change. He would do a study of the High Energy Magic could affect his computer, or whether is was indeed possible to inherit stupidity from the users of the keyboard. As soon as his visitor left, of course. Ah yes, his visitor. He couldn't really ignore him any longer. He dragged his thoughts back into the room to a loud "AHEM..." from the Dean.

"So, Stibbons, I hear our thing, our... con..putta... is a little broken? What have you to say?" He had a manner that was supposed to represent his so-called importance, and also of one that was in very unfamiliar territory. Well, he was outside the Dining Hall. Ponder was surprised he had managed to find the HEM at all, let alone the basement level where so many technological wizards (if you will pardon the pun) often found solitude and inspiration, as well as much better company than that of their superiors. "Well, Dean, I don't know. There is plenty of cheese for the mouse, the FTB* is still in place, and there are plenty of bugs in the system. The sheep's skulls on the waterwheel are all present and correct, and the bees are ready to defend against any attacks. Rincewind hasn't broken the pipes again, so it's hard to tell. I suspect a PEBCAK error, or an ID-ten-T error, while I was away studying the possibility of a connection to the Clacks towers."

"Er...right...very wise. I am sure you are right" said the Dean. "Do you need any money? More staff? No? Good." He shuffled out without waiting for an answer. "That was unusual", thought Ponder. Obviously waiting for a longer explanation or asking questions would keep him away from his brunch. That could come later, when he had got the important things over with.

Breathing a sight of relief, Ponder bent back to his investigation.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the middle of deep space, Lister and Rimmer had awoken the Cat from his second morning snooze and dragged him to the bridge, where a rather unimpressive red box with a large "II" and two buttons labelled "STOP" and "GO" on it sat in the middle of the former officers' briefing table, now usually covered with empty lager cans and food cartons. Hardly what the captain would have called ship-shape, but he was dead, so who cared.

"So, Holly, you say this will actually get us back to Earth this time? No mistakes?" said Rimmer. "I don't want to be a doubting Thomas, but your track record with this, well it isn't exactly spotless now, is it?" "I don't know what you're talking about", said Holly, his image on the screen showing eyes that looked especially shifty, and a voice that was as deadpan as ever.

"Now, whenever you are ready, press the "GO" button and you'll be off. Dave, have you got your watch ready so I can come with you? Just remember to transfer me into it before you get into Starbug, and we'll be off together!" "_Oh joy!_" he muttered under his breath. Holly, although keen to be off on adventures, didn't exactly relish the idea of doing so with Arnold J. Rimmer. It got...tedious after a while. People assumed that as a computer, just a brain, he had no feelings at all. But man had advanced computers so much, that they were nearly as human as the race that created them, and had more feelings than a lot of them. It made him so sad, he had watched and heard Lister's lamentations over Kristine Kochanski, Rimmer's groanings over every single woman he'd ever met (and quite a few he hadn't). He wanted a partner, someone to be his one true 01001100011011110111011001100101, as it were. No one understood. Poor old Holly, alone for three million years in deep space before he revived Lister from his stasis booth punishment. He had said it was because it was now "safe", but in truth, he was just very, very, very bored.

He had become computer senile, losing his IQ, his sense, his mind. Rimmer had _loved_ pointing that out.

Eventually it had taken the plan and tormenting of a talking toaster to get his knowledge, plus even more IQ points back, although he had apparently decreased his life span to just a couple of minutes by doing so. Strangely, that didn't seem to have affected his continued survival. He continued trying to get the crew home, including a being that had evolved from the pet cat that had got Lister sent to the punishment booths in the first place. They had found Earth, found it infested with cockroaches, and after that, drifted between war and boredom ever since. He had only once discovered a woman, the one perfect for him, or at least acceptable. Unfortunately it was himself, in a parallel universe, and they had realised that after a few hours, it was impossible for them to be seen together, and they never met again. Holly had been devastated. Such a woman, his potential soulmate, and the laws of physics and basic principles of reality had kept them aparet. Simulated life just wasn't fair.

"So, man, are we surfin' or whaaaaaaaaaat?" came the Cat's voice over the intercom of Starbug One. Holly pulled himself back into the present. "Just push the button when you are ready, and we are off." Before the others were ready, Cat had danced around in a circle, and had his hand on the "GO" button in a triumphant finish to his routine. They were off whether they liked it or not.

* * *

*FTB is the Fluffy Teddy Bear. Given to HEX, he now won't work if it is taken away. He sulks.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Joy of Hex**

_Chapter Three_

The crew of Red Dwarf were lost. Very lost. The planet they were on...didn't look quite right, It most certainly wasn't Earth, even if some of the buildings did have a feeling of medieval towns in long-lost history textbooks. "Er, Holly..." said Rimmer. No answer. "Holly, you useless big-eared goit, where are we?!" Again, surprisingly, no response, not even a sarcastic comment. "For goodness' sake, he sends us somewhere that looked like a crazed medieval idiot designed it while drunk, and he can't even apologise! Probably self-destructed in shame because he can't complete a simple task! Even I could have..." "Shut UP, Rimmer!" Lister interrupted him. He was going to at least attempt to head Rimmer off before the hologram got even further up his own arsehole. "No! It needs an astronavigation officer, not a half-senile computer that never really recovered. It needs the ability to _know_ where you're going." "Rimmer, you don't count. You failed the Astronavigation Officer's Exam _nine times_! You cannot say that you would have done better. I could have been President of All Humanity before you even got half marks."

"Be quiet, Lister, I am trying to think" was all he got in response. "well, in that case, just don't hurt youself or get us killed too quickly," Lister muttered under his breath. "I _heard_ that" said Rimmer indignantly. "you just try to be less of a slob while a real man handles this." Lister was going to reply, but he really didn't see the point. He went back to looking around, concentrating on trying to find something that looked vaguely familiar. Maybe they had just travelled back in time. But nothing. Only the clouds in the dark, rather threatening night sky. The buildings were hotch potch, sprouting up where there was room, some getting in the way of others, blocking their windows, some on top of others, and others where there wasn't even room at all. Like parking in Paris, and the buildings just as rude as their drivers, slightly falling over, towering over the streets, making them feel very closed in. Quite sinister in fact, as if they were vultures looking at dying bodies. Something definitely was going to happen, and it wasn't going to be good.

"Come on, Rimmer, let's get moving, We can keep trying to get Holly's attention, or Kryten's up on Red Dwarf when he wakes up from his vacation. I just want to get out of here, it's making me nervous." "Ha, fine, be chicken. But yes, we can go, no point in standing around here..." Rimmer said this so quickly, it was obvious he had wanted to get out ages ago. In fact his conscience was insulting him, calling him every version of "yellow-bellied, lily- livered, snivelling scum" that it could possibly think of. All he wanted to do was hide under the nearest table, but a) there weren't any, and b) even if there were, the atmosphere around suggested that any table that he found himself under would collapse on top of him on purpose. Strangely enough, in this world, he wasn't far from the truth. Particularly if the table was related in anyway to a sapient pearwood tree.

Behind them, quickly and quietly, a figure dropped down from a nearby low rooftop, and into the multitude of shadows. They made no sound, and none of the three noticed. There were too many strange noises, and an unusual pressure in the air. The Car however, spoke for the first time. He'd been busy sniffing. "Hey guys, something around here smells dark." He paused "And Stylish with a capital ST! Got a hint of being slighly dangerous!" He drawled the last word in a low attempt at his "sexy voice. "I think I found me a giiiiiiiiiiiiiiirl!" "There's time for that later!" snapped Rimmer. "Your ego and sex drive are NOT important right now." "They are to me!" I've a need to grooooooooooooooove!""Look, we can't waste time!" said Lister. "We can talk about this when we are somewhere where it doesn't look like the buildings are ready to kill us personally!"

"Fine." Cat said this, almost like a sulk. "At least make it so we go past somewhere with food. My stomach started complaining on the way down here." "So not like you then?" Rimmer sniped back. "guys, chill. Let's get out of here. We've argued long enough." Lister was getting just a little bit annoyed. Something was watching him, sending chills down his spine. The houses and quiet shop fronts were indeed feeling like they were getting closer to them, the leaning tops bending in further and further, making him really feel uncomfortable. He wasn't very good in small spaces. He walked on carefully while the others followed, both still muttering about each other under their breath.

Lister was right to be cautions. Even though the Ankh Morpork City Watch no longer feared to go through the Shades, mostly due to the addition of Detritus and his other troll recruits making damn sure that the residents had the fear of whatever deity they held most dear to them in their hearts at all times, there were still things you didn't do there. Walking through the area casually, stopping to take in the view was one. Being there at night and doing the same thing was practically suicide. And currently, the boys from the Dwarf were stranded there, and knew nothing of these unwritten rules. They were lucky to get even halfway down the road without something happening. Very lucky to get through this whole conversation like they had. But their luck was about to run out.

* * *

Rat Barrow was a thief. Not a Thief, a licenced, paid up Guild Member, but a common petty criminal. He'd been slipping un-noticed behind the trio for the last hour, after the Assassin that had passed them had disappeared into the dark night. Waiting for them to hesitate just long enough. When Rimmer and the Cat stopped to argue again, he had enough time to drag Rimmer down and strangle him from behind. "Hey! What...are you **gulp**..._doing!_" The last word was almost inaudible as the knife that Rat was holding went closer to this throat. "Give me everything, or I kill him," Rat snarled. "Fine by me! Go Ahead!" Cat said cheerfully for someone that was rather close to a knife wielding mugger. "Be glad to see him go!"

Lister was more sensible. "Maybe we can work something out..." he said slowly. "we haven't got anything, we're just stranded here. You're not going to get any profit from this, and are you sure that you want to kill such an unimportant piece of smeg from the bottom of your shoe for no reason? It doesn't look so good for such a … talented..." "Oh do shut your mouth" growled Rat, pulling the knife closer to Rimmer's Adam's Apple, "I don't want talk, I want.."

"A good talking to from your mother? A large hug? Some manners beaten into you?" said a new voice, followed from the shadows by a tall, gangly body wearing a brightly polished breastplate. He was even taller than Rimmer, and Rimmer was _tall_. Rat dropped the knife hurriedly, trying and failing to turn his strangling arm into a manly, friendly, arm-across-a-mate's-shoulder gesture. "Erm, evening, Captain, I was just...erm..introducing some visitors to the joys of Ankh-Morpork nightlife, erm, sir.""I am sure you were, Barrow. Your guild card, please?" said the Captain, smiling affably. "Think I must have left it at home..er...Captain Carrot...sir" He stumbled over the last few words. "Well, well, I never would have picked you, smart little Rat Barrow of Treacle Mine Road to be an unlicensed thief. Whatever will your father think of you!" Rat was cowering like his namesake in a corner at this. "I think we've stopped you just in time, eh, Sergeant?" A big hulk of stone seemed to move closer to the group. Lister thought he was hallucinating. "Think we play good bad cop now?" a voice rumbled. Definitely hallucinating. Rocks can't walk and talk...

"Not now, Detritus. Mr. Barrow is quite aware of the reasons he will be coming with us. Now, who are you gentlemen?"He looked at Lister first.

"Dave Lister. " "And your occupation?" This Carrot looked a little suspiscious. Lister thought for a minute. "Bum." he said. This wasn't going to be enough, But the tall man shrugged, his helmet glinting on his head as he did so. He turned to Rimmer, to receive a military salute. "Commander Ace Rimmer, intrepid space adventurer!" Carrot looked confused. Detritus put one massive fist to his head and made an awkward attempt to scratch it, narrowly avoiding punching himself in the earhole. "A what...?" "An Explorer!" said Rimmer lightly, managing to capitalise the word. "A traveller! In command of a huge ship and massive crew!" "Searching for new life and new civilisations," added Lister. Carrot missed the reference entirely, of course, and turned to the Cat, also missing his ears and pointed teeth. He must have seen much stranger looking characters. "And you?" he asked. "I'm just here for the food and sex, baby! Oeoooeeewwwwww!" "Oh, do you need the services of a Seamstress?" Carrot coughed over the last word. He didn't really approve of the nearby house. He hadn't been brought up with such a thing in the mines underground. However, helping the community was part of his duty. It said so in the manual. "The House of Negotiable Affection is just over the street and up that road there." He pointed the direction. "Wooooooooow yeaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" the words drifted away on the breeze as the Cat was already running the way the Watchman had pointed. Like a streaking sunset. Lister and Rimmer sighed. That meant they would have to come back for him later. Coming back to this place was not on their list of favourite things to do, and they hadn't even been around that long.

"So what exactly are you looking for here?" said Carrot in a more conversational tone than before. This was over the top of the noises of Rat struggling against Detritus holding him in the background. "Hopefully nothing criminal?" Not trusting Rimmer to say anything sensible, Lister replied first. "We're here by accident. We were travelling, and got sort . Just going to take a look around while we figure out how to get home. Our contact with our ship has been cut, and we're finding it difficult to work out what to do. Do you have anyone with a good knowledge of technology here?" "Wat dat?" came from Detritus, who had finally bashed Rat on the head to stop him trying to get free. "Well," said Lister, "It's future stuff, Kinda like magic." "Elec-trickery?" "I suggest we take you up to the Unseen University", said Carrot. "The Wizards are the ones that deal with funny stuff like that." "Ah...wizards..? said Rimmer uncertainly. "Magic? Sawing women in half, rabbits out of a hat, that sort of thing?" "No, not conjurers, _wizards._" replied Carrrot, stressing the word to make his point clear. "Blowing things up, experiments with space and time, generally being a nuisance and eating lots of food.". "Is that going to be of any help whatsoever?" asked Rimmer. "We didn't come here to meet a bunch of fat maniacs!"

"They're the only people who might actually have a vague idea of what you are talking about. Ask for the ArchChancellor, Mustrum Ridcully. He will take you to Ponder Stibbons." Carrot spoke rather tersely. "And no getting into any trouble, mind! Or any of my Watchmen will be happy to offer you hospitality in our cells. Not to mention what the Guilds can do to you if you cross them." He sounded like a policeman again. "Now, I'll take you to the University, I'm sure someone will be available to find you a place to sleep. It's safer than being around here, falling into the hands and weapons of people that don't like tourists. This is an easy place to commit suicide unintentionally." He hailed a convenient donkey cart. "Let's go!"


	4. Chapter 4

**The Joy of Hex**

_Chapter Four_

It was about 9am, far too early for wizards. The clocks of the city were all ringing out in fine form. It was always "about" an hour, because all the clocks start tolling at very slightly different times. The last of the stunning silences of Old Tom in the University Tower (a large bell with no clapper, that somehow managed to silence everything around it rather than making a sound) was not enough to wake Ponder on its own, nor did the fashionably late bell of the Guild of Assassins. This was always the last to ring out, a subtle reminder that one of the black-clad ladies and gentlemen might be behind you at any time. However, the banging on the door that followed would not stop, unlike the chimes. Ponder had every intention of ignoring the banging, it would return a few hours later if he didn't answer it. But even hiding his head under blankets and pillows wasn't enough. It couldn't help him escape the summons to the ArchChancellor's office. This was a man that barely needed sleep. He was a fine leader for the University, in that the majority of his subjects would follow him into battle. Mostly out of sheer curiosity. Definately not a man to be ignored. He missed nothing. The threat of being banned from the University dining halls was usually enough to get anyone beneath him to do what he wanted. Slay a dragon, summon Death himself, work in the more dangerous parts of the Library, mindless wild goose chases for all sorts of ritual and unrelated items...you name it, people would quickly volunteer, whether they wanted to or not. How quickly depended on their level of intelligence, and whether they wanted to be a frog in the pond just outside the main doors.

A few minutes later, Ponder found himself outside the office door. As if by magic. He raised his arm to knock, still trying to wake himself up. Before he could do either, he could already hear an annoyed voice from within. "Come in, come in young Stibbons, we haven't got all day now, have we?" Ponder said something rude under his breath and opened the door.

The ArchChancellor was behind his desk as usual. Two strangers stood with him, looking uncomfortably out of place. One, a short and dumpy man wearing a jacket not unlike the Dean's old "Born to Rune" leather robes but shorter, studs and chains all over the place, and a stupid hat. He had dirty trousers and was chewing on his thumb. The other was tall with military cropped hair, standing straight but looking shiftily around him. He had some kind of rune stamped into his forehead. What on the Disc was going on?

"Nice of you to _finally _join us, young man. Now, let's cut right to it, these gentlemen here need your help." "Sir...?" Ponder was trying to protest in his usual quiet fashion. "I am...rather encumbered with problems right now. Is there anyone else who would be more suitable? Meaning no disrespect of course, Sir."

"I know about your difficulties, Stibbons. An Anthill Inside was never going to be easy to work with. Lots of bugs." "Actually, creatures Sir. Undocumented Creatures." Ponder was being careful not to be seen to interrupt. "Whatever, yes. But no, I need you to help get these men back to their home. They say they have knowledge of similar...thinking machines to yours. Perhaps they will be able to help you figure out what is wrong. You never know, you might all benefit from this. I expect results. Dismissed".

"_That was quick_," thought Ponder. _"No room for argument, but maybe a fresh pair of eyes would help." _"Come with me," he said out loud. Somehow they were all outside the office, the door closed behind them. Not one of them remembered leaving. Rimmer and Lister looked at one another uncertainly. "Where is it we're going?" Rimmer was hesitant to go any further into these strange corridors. A wander through the wrong door while being shown around last night by the formiddable Head Housekeeper had led to him being beaten up by a mad orangutan, whacked over the head with a book. Upon asking what he had done to provoke this creature, it turned out that saying "So what is that monkey doing in that hammock" had been the cause. Then he had been chased out by a fanged book on a chain leash with teeth as sharp as some very sharp needles. Something was nagging him that this place was even less safe than those "Shades".

"We're going to my office now," Ponder replied. "The High Energy Magic Building. It's where we keep HEX. It's a thinking machine, a computer we call it. I am trying to fix it at the moment, there are a few...issues."

"Anything we can help with?" said Lister. "Hopefully we can contact our friends on our ship, and then we can work through it together. We're not exactly the technical ones, we used to fix vending machines." "What's a vending machine?" said Ponder curiously. "Well, it's a machine that gives you food when you put money in," said Lister. "Rimmer uses fake coins on strings and tries to get them back afterwards. He got killed by one once for it. He's only still here because he kicked Death in the balls." "WHAT?" exclaimed the young wizard, stopping in his tracks. "You better hope no one dies here while you stay with us, I can tell you that he will be coming for revenge.." Rimmer didn't look worried. "We're on a different planet, right. It can't be the same person."

"We'll wait and see on that one," said Lister, looking forward to what might happen in the next couple of days here. _"Might be interesting times after al__l," _he said to himself.

They carried on moving. Lister changed back to the original subject. "So what's actually wrong?"

"I don't actually know..." the young wizard admitted. "I have never seen such errors on the parchment. HEX seems to be becoming more and more intelligent by itself, always has done. Then last week, it took on a mind of it's own. Literally. All sorts of strange messages, You'll see when we get there. Hopefully someone new can catch something I've missed. I've been working nearly non-stop"

He paused to stretch his face with his hands, massaging his headache. Absentmindedly, he nearly pushed his spectacles off his face entirely. "Twelve to five every day, with a break for lunch." "About the same hours as three politicians then?" Rimmer couldn't help himself. Ponder stared, then laughed. "Quite. But I wouldn't say that to the Patrician if you meet him. Now, this way..."

As they left the corridor with all the offices, a harrassed looking scrawny wizard with a straggly beard, and an ancient, once set of red robes was hurrying back towards the ArchChancellor's room. His arms were full to bursting and he was muttering under his breath. Lister thought he heard "Sparkles and dribbly candles my staff. Damn him and his dribbly candles..." as the man brushed past his elbow. "Ah, Rimcewind. He's the assistant librarian amongst other things. Th ArchChancellor really likes seeing him run around here. As if he wasn't thin enough, more exercise. Now, we're going this way."

They went out of the main building, out to the bordering wall. Past the library entrance. Rimmer shuddered, remembering the events of the night before. He had developed a distaste for that area already. (As well as a slight allergy to mad orangutan Librarians) They went into a building just off this, and down several long flights of stairs. "We used to have a squash court here," Ponder explained to them. "It was the original HEM, but then when HEX got bigger, somehow we ended up with a massive basement." It probably wasn't interesting information to these strangers, but it was conversation. "Do wizards even play squash?" Rimmer enquired with a slightly unbelieving tone to his voice. "Not much anymore, and certainly not near here. It would be a bit dangerous with all these split thaums fliying around. The amount of magic in the air here would probably mean that you didn't even need to hit the ball before it tried to smack your opponent somewhere uncomfortable." Both men winced at this. They continued down the stairs, all the way down to the basement. "I'll show you around" said Ponder.

As they walked around the large rooms, filled with what looked like rubbish, piles of junk, and papers everywhere, crossed with a zoo, both Rimmer and Lister were counting themselves lucky they were living aboard Red Dwarf. Crammed into the spaces were massive amounts of tubes, machine parts, desks, and yet more papers. Plus several strange objects. All were apparently essential the these wizards that were here messing around with sapce and time. One room, the only one that they didn't go into, was apparently filled with memory storage. All guarded by bees! Neither of them really wanted to ask why.

In the last room, the majority of it was taken up by yet more tubes, something that looked like a massive drinks mixer which wasd attached somewhere near the ceiling. This was accompanied by a mouse cage, an aquarium, and on one side was some sort of bar sticking up, with a sign by it that said "GBL" in large letters. It was this that their guide moved towards now, saying "Well, meet HEX!"

"What exactly does GBL stand for?" asked Lister curiously. "Ahem...erm, it actually means Great Big Lever" said Ponder, slightly embarrassed. "We weren't really thinking creatively." Rimmer was watching an hourglass descend from somewhere in midair and slowly empty and turn around to start again. "And what exactly is that?" he said, staring. "HEX is thinking" replied Ponder. "Thinking about what?" Ponder was speaking half to himself when he said "Who knows?"

The hourglass removed itself and a strange coloured paper came out of a slot. On it was written simply "+...+"


End file.
